oct 26, 2011
“—First, our little financial settlement, he said.
He brought out of his coat a pocketbook bound by a
leather thong. It slapped open and he took from it two
notes, one of joined halves, and laid them carefully on the
—Two, he said, strapping and stowing his pocketbook
And now his strongroom for the gold. Stephen’s
embarrassed hand moved over the shells heaped in the
cold stone mortar: whelks and money cowries and leopard
shells: and this, whorled as an emir’s turban, and this, the
scallop of saint James. An old pilgrim’s hoard, dead
treasure, hollow shells.
A sovereign fell, bright and new, on the soft pile of the
A little financial arrangement.